The Young Wolf
by Queen Nushy
Summary: Robb Stark would do anything to get his family back. He'd even marry a Frey girl if that's what it took...


**Chapter One.**

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 _ **AN**_ _ **:**_ _Hey all! I wish I could say that I've been following this fantastic show ever since it aired, but that would be false. Only recently I decided to check it out and see what all the hype is about, and OH MY GOODNESS- I was hooked. I dedicated my days and nights to finish all I can. Yes, I stay up until 3am to see the premier of each episode since I live across the globe from most of you, so excuse me if you find fault in spelling or grammar since English is NOT my first language. I also feel the need to warn you guys that I am by no means a Game Of Thrones expert and I'm only writing what I visualize in my mind. I am new to writing and I know my ability would not be worthy for this show. I've read so many amazing stories that have been shared on here, but I feel the need to share my ideas as well. I've been upset with the death of the Young Wolf and decided to resurrect him in my story and write a 'what if'. Yes-yes, I'm well aware that it has been done before, but just sit back, relax and come along for the ride..._

 _ **Disclaimer**_ _ **:**_ _I own nothing but my OC!_

 _ **XXX**_

"Shoot it down." Robb Stark- King of the North, voices his order.

Theon Greyjoy obediently aims his bow and arrow at his target, the messenger raven flying over the army of Northern soldiers before releasing his fingers from the bowstring, allowing the arrow to shoot across the clear sky and straight through the cawing bird, causing it to plummet to the ground with great speed right before him. He kneels beside the creature, untying the scroll note that was fastened to its leg and hands it to his king.

Robb grabs the note from Theon before breaking the seal and unscrolling it. "It's a birthday message to his grandniece, Walda." He says aloud.

"Or so Walder Frey would have you think." Theon Greyjoy interjects.

"Keep shooting them down," Catelyn Stark orders, referring to the ravens. "We can't risk Lord Walder sending word of your movements to the Lannisters." She warns her son.

Robb furrows his brows in disbelief before diverting his gaze towards his mother. "He's grandfather's bannerman, we can't expect his support?"

"Expect nothing of Walder Frey and you'll never be surprised." Lord Greatjon says with a scoff.

"My father rots in a dungeon..." Robb starts to speak, feeling himself grow more impatient by the second. "How long until they take his head? We need to cross the Trident and we need to cross it _now_!"

"Just march up to his gates and tell him you are crossing." Theon suggests, feeling very sure of himself. "We got five times his numbers. You can take The Twins if you have to!"

"Not in time." Lord Greatjon steps forward. "Tywin Lannister marches North as we speak."

"The Freys have held the crossing for sixhundered years and for sixhundred years they never failed to exact their toll." Catelyn Stark warns her son yet again.

"Have my horse saddled and ready." Robb orders Theon.

"Are you truly planning on entering The Twins alone?" Theon tries to argue, hopeful that he might be able to talk some sense into the Young Wolf. "He'll sell you to the Lannisters, or throw you in a dungeon along with your father." He swallows hard. "Maybe even slit your throat."

As Robb Stark contemplates what his next move might be, he watches the oncoming guards emerging from across the field, holding worn, ragged Frey house flags that fly proudly in the air for all to see. "My father would do whatever it took to secure our crossing." Robb states rather forcefully while clenching his fists by his side in annoyance. "Whatever it took." He reiterates. "If I'm going to lead this army, I can't let other men do my bargaining for me."

"I agree." Catelyn Stark says aloud, nodding her head as she walks towards her horse. "That's why I'm going."

"Mother-" Robb tries to argue but Lady Stark refuses to listen.

"I have known Lord Walder since I was a girl, he would never harm me." She tries to assure her son, hiding her true uncertainty.

"I do not care!" Robb says through a clenched jaw. "I will not risk your safety!"

"I am not asking you, Robb. I'm telling you. You may be the King of the North, but never forget that you are my son first." She says before mounting her horse. "This is your father we speak of. We must do everything we can to return him home safely."

"Fine." Robb says through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring and his eyes burning with rage. "You may go."

 **XXX**

The horn being blown by the guard on the wall, usually announcing a rather highborn guest, was loud enough for all to hear, even Eden Frey who was, like usual, tucked away in her chambers. She tosses the book she was indulging in aside, jumps from her bed and hurries towards the window to sate her curiosity. The steel gates finally open and she watches as a lone female rider enters the Frey grounds.

Her father never allowed her to interact with anyone but her family, especially no strange men. Not that she ever wanted to pursue anything with anyone before since every man in The Twins repulses her beyond belief. Her father tried to hide her from the rest of the world, chasing her to her chambers whenever a visitor he doesn't trust might arrive. He never allowed her to leave the courtyard either, but that never stopped her from trying to sneak out. She remembers the first time her sister, Walda, persuaded her to join in on a hunt beyond the gate. More importantly, she vividly remembers the lashings her father ordered his right hand man to give her after his guards- who had her gripped by her long-brown hair, bringing her kicking and screaming form back not long after she escaped. As gruesome as it may sound, that was not her last attempt to leave, nor was it the last time her father allowed his men to leave painful, burning welts on her skin where the material of her dress had not protected her.

Even if her father chose to discipline her this way, he never left lasting scars on her body. The bruises on her body normally vanished after a few days, a week at most. Nothing she had to endure had left permanent damage to her body, father would never risk it. He had big plans for Eden, hopes that he could marry her off to a very rich man, possibly a king from The Capital, like Joffrey. Kings would not appreciate damaged goods.

No, he didn't like the idea that there might be a common Lord somewhere, forcing Eden's hand in marriage and him not getting anything out of the bargain. That just won't do. He would preserve her for an opportunity that might arise in the near future, a bargaining that will leave him a respectable man. People will treat him with more honor, those Northerners will choke on their arrogant laughter for thinking they're better than him.

 _"They're laughing at us! All across the Riverlands...right down to King's Landing, they're laughing at us! I hear it in my sleep! I'm not dead yet, unfortunately for you. And I'll not leave this world until Lord Stark and his arrogant sons choke on their laughter."_ Her father's words would repeat in her mind.

No matter how hard Lord Frey tried, his attempts always failed. Eden Frey had always been a stubborn girl with a loose mouth, that much he knew to be true.

 **XXX**

"My lord," Olyvar Frey calls out to his father. "Lady Catelyn Stark is here to see you." He announces while ushering her into the throne room filled with people, most likely Lord Frey's many descendants.

"What do you want?" Lord Frey barks out from his chair, his hand hidden behind his new, young wife as he strokes her behind in a perverted way. Catelyn Stark could see how the poor young girl's eyes sparkled with shame before her sights set to the ground before her in embarrassment. Lady Stark couldn't blame the girl, she rather felt sorry for her. She could have married a nice young man who would love her dearly, treat her with respect, but fate was not on her side, thus she is stuck with old Walder Frey. The years clearly had not been kind to him.

"It is a great pleasure seeing you after so many years, my Lord." She says politely while putting one foot in front of the other, bending her knees as she performs her curtsy, offering Lord Frey half a smile.

"Oh, spare me." Lord Walder grunts out annoyed, clearly not in the mood for some kind of sweet talk from the woman before him. "Your boy is too proud to come before me himself, so what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Father!" One of Lord Walder's sons call out for his attention. "You forget yourself, Lady Stark is-"

"Who asked you?!" Lord Walder snarls out, silencing the entire room. "You're not Lord Frey yet, boy. Not until I die!" He reminds his son forcefully. "Do I look dead to you?!"

"Father, please..." Another son named Ryger Rivers calls out, trying to reason with his father.

"Do I need a lessons in courtesy from you, bastard?!" Lord Walder snaps, his tone of voice causing Lady Stark to set her mouth in a hard line as she tries to stand her ground even though she knew Lord Frey never was known to be a kind man. "Your mother would still be a milkmaid if I had not squirted you into her belly!" He snarls at his son before returning his focus back to Lady Stark, sighing out loud. "All right, you, come forward." He beckons her over.

Catelyn Stark hesitates for a moment before closing the little distance between them. She juts her arm out, offering her hand to the Lord and he gladly grabs on to it tightly, planting an unpleasant, sloppy-wet kiss to the back of it. Catelyn Stark had to try very hard not to crinkle her nose in disgust.

"There," He allows her hand to drop and she immediately pulls it back, wiping the remaining saliva off with the material of her fur coat after being sure he would not notice. "Now that I have observed the courtesies, perhaps my sons will do me the honor of shutting their traps!"

Catelyn Stark glares around the room, observing as the two lads bow their heads in embarrassment. "Is there somewhere we can talk perhaps, my Lord." She asks hopeful, not wanting their conversation to be heard by the masses around them.

"We're talking right now." Lord Frey states, but Catelyn Stark's eyes glares at him with unamusement. "Fine." He sighs out in defeat. "Out!" He barks. "All of you, out!" He yells before slapping the young girl next to him painfully hard on her behind, causing her to yelp. "You too." The young girl passes by Lady Stark without daring to make eye contact, feeling too ashamed. It seems like she, along with the rest of the hoard of people did not have to be asked a second time. They all scatter and swarm around the room like ants, trying to make their leave.

They waited a few seconds until the room was left vacant apart from the two of them before daring to speak. "You see that?" Lord Frey asks, indicating towards the young girl who was just about to turn the corner. Clearly the old Lord saw Lady Stark looking at his new wife one or two times too long. He knew she would be judging his choices, she was a Northerner after all. "Fifteen she is." He licks his lips, sounding awfully proud of himself. "A little flower and her honey is all mine." He says as he treads away.

Catelyn Stark bites her lip, feeling the bile rise in her throat thinking how that young girl is not much older than her own two daughters. She swallows hard. "I'm sure she will give you many sons." Lady Stark offers a small smile.

"Huh!" Lord Walder Frey scoffs. "Your father did not come to the wedding." He says bluntly while walking towards the lit fire on the other side of the room.

"He is quite Ill, my Lord." Lady Stark retort, following swiftly behind him.

"Huh..." Lord Frey scoffs again, this time barely audible to his guest. "He did not come to the last one either." He says, holding his palms out in front of the flames, trying to warm them up. "Or the one before that." He finishes his thought. "Your family has always pissed on me." He says to Lady Stark, gazing over his shoulder towards her.

"My Lord, I-" She tries to justify her father, but Walder Frey cuts her excuse short.

"Don't deny it, you know it's true." He says while shaking his head. "The fine Lord Tully would never marry any of his children to mine."

"I'm sure there were reasons why!" She insists.

"I did not need any reasons!" Lord Frey argues, turning away from the fire to face his guest. "I needed to get rid of sons and daughters. You see how they pile up?" He grabs his coat to expose some of his behind to be warmed up by the heat of the glazing flames. Catelyn Stark feels the annoyance start to brew up inside her, surely it is not her fault-or problem-that Lord Frey fathers so many children. "Why are you here?" He demands.

Lady Starks sighs out. "To ask you to open your gates, my Lord." She says directly, no beating behind the bush. "So that my son and his bannermen can cross the Trident and be on their way."

"Why should I let them?" He narrows his eyes at her.

"If you could climb your own battlements, you could see that he has twenty thousand men outside your walls." She answers confidently which only causes Walder Frey to scoff out loud.

"They'll be twenty thousand corpses when Tywin Lannister gets here. Don't try and fight me, Lady Stark. Your husband is in a cell beneath the Red Keep, and your son's got no fur to keep his balls warms."

That was it, Catelyn Stark could not keep her mouth shut no more. "That is a king you are talking about, Lord Frey!" She warns. "I'd advise you to have more respect." She can feel her body heat up with anger from Lord Frey's disrespect.

"So it's true?" He crooks a brow at her. "Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, son of Eddard Stark is indeed King of the North." He states more than ask.

"Yes he is." She answers proudly. "And may I remind you, my Lord. You swore an oath to my father."

"Oh, yes, I said some words, but then I swore oaths to the crown too. If I remember right, Joffrey is king now, which makes your boy, the self-proclaimed king and his corpses to be nothing but rebels it seems to me. If I had the sense the Gods gave a fish, I'd hand you both over to the Lannisters."

"Why don't you?" Lady Stark inquires, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Stark, Tully, Lannister, Baratheon. Give me one good reason why I should waste a single thought on any of you." He turns to face her, curious what her answer may be.

"Because if my son crosses the Trident there will be nothing to stop him from getting his justice. And you, my Lord, will be on the winning side of the battle." She promises.

"The Lannisters mean nothing to you?" He asks curiously.

"No, they do not." She answers confidently. "They have my husband and daughters." Catelyn Stark reminds him, her eyes pleading. "As a mother I'd do anything to get my children back. I promise you, Lord Frey, your kindness will not be forgotten by the North."

Walder Frey stays silent for a long moment, contemplating his decision before voicing it. "Fine. You may cross." He groans.

The feeling of relief washes over Catelyn Stark and she lets out a breath she did not notice she was holding. "Thank you, my Lord." She says sincerely.

"But...I want something in return."

Of course he does. Lady Stark knew that much.

"Anything."

"Very well...I want my son, Olyvar to be your son's personal squire." He narrows his eyes. "And a knighthood following soon."

"That sounds fair, my Lord." She nods her head.

"I will also be sending a couple of my children to Winterfell to ward." Lord Frey demands, taking full advantage of getting rid of as many parasites as possible. "Lets say four."

"That could be arranged. I'll be sure to tell the king." Catelyn agrees.

"I want my younger boy, Waldren, to marry your daughter as well."

"Sansa is already betrothed, my Lord." Catelyn Stark furrows her brow.

"I'm no fool, Lady Stark." Lord Frey groans. "I mean the other one, the younger one. They can wait to wed until they are of age, I suppose, but I want it done." He gives her a warning look.

Catelyn Stark's eyes burned with rage. "As you wish, my Lord." She forces herself to say.

"And of course, the King." He mumbles. "He will be marrying a daughter of mine."

"My lord, I mean no disrespect, but I cannot possibly promise you that." She narrows her eyes at him. "Robb is a grown man, one that makes his own decision. I cannot betroth him to anyone."

"The King requested a favor from me, and I so graciously complied with it. Now in order for me to proceed this, he needs to agree to my terms." He groans. "All of them." He crooks an eyebrow. "It is all or none, Lady Stark." He warns.

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Hi guys.

I'm just posting this short chapter to kind of test the waters a little bit. Want to read more? Think it could have potential? Please drop a review. Thank you all for taking the time to read. I have big plans for this story, plans I believe you all would love. :)


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